Feather Light

Chapter 30

"Leigh." She spoke my name and placed a hand on my chest. Her hand rested on my heart, burning through my shirt. I felt it like a brand on my skin, and it paralysed me. With her one hand, she held me completely. She must have been able to feel my heartbeat, racing, beating only for her. We lay like that for an age and the storm that had been hurtling around inside me for so many weeks finally stilled.

Before I could even begin to wonder what the hand meant, Pop's voice rang out, urgent and authoritative. "Leigh, Keira, kitchen, now."

We rolled off the couch, smoothing feathers and straightening clothes as we hurried for the kitchen. Pop stood there, holding an envelope in his hand and with one sentence, the storm began to blow once more and the game changed again. "It's from Noah."

***

Just another morning in limbo. I poured myself and Pastor Josh a coffee and went to meet him on our usual spot on the kitchen steps. I'd managed to push my grief down again, turn deaf ears to my loss and focus on more important things. An article about the possibility of transplanting polar bears to the South Pole I'd read in the paper the previous night was burning a hole in my brain and I was looking forward to debating the idea with Josh before breakfast.

Instead I found him sitting with a Bible in his lap and a serious countenance. "Noah. Sit."

"Is everything alright?" I asked, my hackles up.

"You've had enough time now," he launched in. "You've had weeks, with no questions and no challenges. I believe you've healed enough to reassess. Because I can't ignore the voice in my heart that tells me you didn't come from nowhere." Josh rubbed a hand over his hairless scalp in frustration. "Somewhere, there must be people who care about you. And whatever caused you to run, man, it's time to face it."

Like a wisp of smoke in the wind, any feelings of comfort or openness I'd felt with the Pastor vanished. I didn't answer him, just sipped my coffee and tried to mentally be somewhere else.

But Josh was nothing if not persistent. "You don't have to talk. And I know I'm risking everything I've built with you by asking you about your life. I wouldn't do it if I didn't believe I'm supposed to call you on this. And I believe, in time, you'll respond."

I narrowed my eyes, normally enough to drive off most unwanted inquiries. Josh put a hand on my shoulder. "Noah, I'm going to pray for you."

Instead of leaving, I just scowled and ignored him. Yet, small phases still slipped through. "...Let Noah find peace...the calm of forgiveness...see the love that waits for him..." At the thought of a waiting love, I felt a horrifying swell of emotion. I gritted my teeth until it passed.

For the rest of the day, I fumed silently while I worked. Pastor Josh acted completely, irritatingly normal, chatting away blithely while I sullenly stalked around behind him, my brain beating painfully inside my skull. How dare he, I seethed. It's not his life. It's none of his business.

All of Josh's one-sided banter that day was focused on his family. Stupid stories about his sisters, memories of his grandparents, his hope for a wife and children of his own one day. I sulked through it all, letting his words flow off me.

But something must have made it in, because when I finally escaped him for the night and slammed the door of the portable behind me, all I could think about was my own family. Pop and Leigh. They were all I'd had, they were my entire world. My twin and his laughter, his ability to drag me out of whatever hole I'd sunk myself in, his friendship, our brotherhood. Pop, his sacrifice, raising us, trying to understand me, his patience and unending love.

Somewhere, those two people sat and worried. They would agonise over where I might be, reassure each other that I was fine, while holding onto their unspoken doubts that I wasn't. They would weep for me and wait for me and hope for me, because that's what family do. When someone is lost, they feel it.

Even though it must have been close to three AM, I rolled off my small mattress and headed for the church office. Before I could over-think it, I wrote a letter, saying what I knew I'd want to hear. I signed it, found an envelope and a stamp and started considering mailing options. A quick internet search informed me for ten dollars, I could mail the letter with an extra envelope to an address in a major city where it would get a new, false mailing stamp before travelling on to its final destination. My location could still remain secret and at least for now, that was how I wanted it.

I jogged to the post box down the road, dropped the letter in, and instantly felt better. Back in bed, I slept deeply and woke refreshed. It was only as I walked over to the kitchen that I had the small revelation: it had been almost a whole day since I'd thought about Keira. Perhaps Pastor Josh was right. Perhaps I was finally healing.

On the kitchen steps the next morning, I handed Josh his coffee and debated telling him what I'd done. The little smile on his big face told me that somehow, he already knew.

So the brothers are drawing closer to a reunion - what's going to happen with Keira?  Please vote!  Leave a comment if you've got a question, a thought or even an emoji, and I'll see you soon.